


There's a New Papa in Town

by KassieProphet



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M, No Smut, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Power Outage, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23029240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KassieProphet/pseuds/KassieProphet
Summary: A sudden power outage cuts The Abbey off from outside communication. Just who will be retuning from Mexico—and who amongst the congregation should start to feel really nervous?
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Original Female Character(s), Papa IV/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 19





	There's a New Papa in Town

The whole clergy was buzzing about it. Something had _happened_ during the Ritual in Mexico. Sure, there had been hushed whispers about whether or not The Cardinal would meet the same end as the Emeritus brothers—but when the shaky footage of Papa Nihil had leaked, the Sibling’s dorms had erupted into bedlam.

And then the power had gone out.

Ghouls slithered out of the darkness—not the feral but somewhat tame band Ghouls—the ones that still hissed and snarled to communicate and watched each human with hungry eyes. Phones were confiscated, and the Siblings were _escorted_ back to their rooms—locks clicking from the outside—where they lit candles and talked softly to their roommates.

And if some of them though they heard howls and screams in the distance, they convinced each other it was just the wind through the old bones of the Abbey.

The next morning, Siblings awoke to the sounds of keys turning in their locks; they warily emerged into the halls where they were once again escorted like kindergartners to the mess hall (and if anyone noticed a slight dwindle of their numbers, no one said so). Sister Imperator stood at the head, stick straight as usual, flanked by her personal Ghouls.

After everyone had sat down, Imperator raised her hand—a subtle order for silence. When she had everyone’s attention, she spoke—her commanding voice loud enough the fill the hall even without the aid of a mic.

“Good morning, everyone. Last night there were higher than normal winds that knocked out some of our wires. The Ghouls were kind enough to help you back into your rooms for your own safety. You should thank them for their assistance.”

When no one spoke, the Ghouls at her side made “go on” motions, and the hall was briefly filled with the murmurs and mumbles of thanks.

“Very good,” said Sister, her voice clipped. “I’ve been told the electricity should be back on soon, but until then we’ll just have to make due with a cold breakfast.”

No one moved—some Siblings were literally at the edges of their seats—waiting to see if Sister Imperator would talk about **It**. The steel in her gaze seemed to meet everyone and no one at once. She lifted her chin and clapped twice.

“Chop chop! A power outage will get no one out of their chores or lessons. Breakfast hour still ends promptly at 9am.”

Slowly, the crowd in the hall began to move—quicker when they realized they’d have to fight over the potpourri that was set out for breakfast. Sister Imperator turned to leave, her Ghouls following a step behind, and it wasn’t until she’d reached the doorway that she’d turned her head over her shoulder and said,

“And I expect each and every one of you to be extra diligent in your chores today—Papa will be returning home tomorrow morning.”

She left the room before what she’d said even reached half of the gathered Siblings.

Excited chatter broke out as the game of telephone both amplified and muted the importance of her words. By lunch the rumors were flying, but without power, there was no confirming any of them. Their phones had been returned—all mysteriously without charge.

By dinner, everyone had stories of Copia’s favorites being summoned or taken by Ghouls. Some argued that meant The Cardinal was out of favor while others argued for it. That night, Sister Imperator imposed an early curfew and again had them locked into their rooms—for safety—since the power was still out.

At 6am sharp, the bells chimed out—not just a ringing of 6, but a whole unholy hymn. The Siblings were instructed to put on their ceremonial garbs and meet at the main entrance—some very lucky to get a spot outside, the rest congregating down the main hall. The Siblings found banners and their religious totems all done up in blue and gold—but any whispered speculation was quickly silenced by a sharp hiss and a jab of claw.

At 8am, the congregation saw Sister check her watch, and soon after they heard the low rumbling of a car and tires crunching across stone gravel. Some Siblings bounced on their heels, other clutched each other’s hands, and some swallowed in dread.

The Clergy limo finally pulled into view, and Imperator’s Ghouls rolled out a carpet, fibers blue and trimmed in gold. The door opened, and the band Ghouls emerged, sinuously—their polished masks held high, their uniforms new and still a rich black—to flank either side of the carpet.

Then.

A boot emerged.

Over the boot a hem—beautifully embroidered in golds—fell.

Then two legs came into view and with them a shock of blue vestments.

Aether and Swiss both leaned down, each lending a hand to help—

The Cardinal—

No, a freshly painted _Papa Emeritus IV_ —out of the limo.

Like a butterfly out of a cocoon, Copia emerged, resplendent in his new colors and wearing his new title like a fist of iron. Gasps and sharp intakes of breath blanketed the crowd.

Mountain reverently placed the mitre on Copia’s head, and Copia give him the slightest of nods.

“Ah! _Papa_. Welcome home,” said Sister Imperator—her tone now laced with an emotion that could have been described as joy.

Copi—no, _Papa_ —spread out his arms. “It is good to be home with my flock.”

When he was met with silence, Imperator said, “Well, is this how you welcome home your new spiritual leader?”

Claws were back jabbing in sides, and the congregation erupted into whistles and cheers—some genuine, some not—as Papa IV gestured with the subtly and grace of a ruler who knows not to waste their energy with grand movements.

Sister Imperator held out her hands, and Papa IV began to make his way down the blue carpet, stopping here and there to place chaste kisses on hands and unbless heads—his Ghouls following in his wake. When Papa IV reached Sister, he clasped her hands in his and leaned forward to kiss each cheek. He murmured something in her ear that became a hotly-debated topic for many meals to come—was it _Madre_ , or was it _Mater_? Or—as some snorted—had it just been a non-verbal _Mm_?

Some poor fool—just loud enough to be heard—asked, “But where’s Papa Nihil?”

Dewdrop made a throat-slashing motion before Rain elbowed him.

Papa IV bowed his head, then turned to face his— _his_ —congregation.

“It is with heavy heart I regret to inform you. Our dear Grand Papa has joined the Olde One.” Papa IV pointed a gloved finger to the ground. “This was a tour too many.”

The white noise of many whispers all up once filled the air, and Papa IV sliced his hand in front of him for silence.

“But what is a simple Cardinal to do when his superior insists on playing his solo?” Papa IV shrugged, an echo of his nervous rat persona. “Please, _un momento di silenzio_ for Nihil, _per favore_.”

The congregation all bowed their heads, startled when Papa IV immediately clapped.

“Come! I have been hearing the beautiful Imperator prepared a welcome feast.”

Papa IV practically glided down the main hall, shaking hands and kissing foreheads. He paid particular attention to his favored—who had seamlessly reintegrated into the crowd and were beaming. They had apparently been tasked by Sister Imperator to carry out the celebration’s plans.

The only surprise came when Papa IV stopped in front of Sister Doreen. Sister Doreen had always been vocal on her disdain for Copia, saying her papal love would always be for Papa III. She’d often make chittering noises behind his back. Now she stood, pale faced, as Papa IV considered her. He held out a gloved hand, fingers now adorned with his ceremonial rings.

A Ghoul flinched as if to make for her, but Sister Doreen faltered only for a second before kneeling and kissing his rings. The whole hall let out an exhale it didn’t know it was holding as Papa IV gave her an unblessing and chucked her under the chin as permission to rise. He’d continued on down the hallway then, only pausing briefly to whisper in Cumulus’ ear.

Most of the crowd had their eyes glued to Papa IV’s form as he paraded away, but a few saw the Ghoulette walk over to Sister Doreen and hand her what looked like a square of cardstock.

The rest of that day was filled with pomp and ceremony over Copia’s ascension to Papa—the power having come back on sometime during his arrival. Papa IV sat contentedly—a Sister in his lap, a Brother feeding him fruit, a gaggle at his feet—as he watched most of the congregation gorge themselves on food and lose themselves in wine.

By midday, most of the Siblings were passed out drunk or in a food coma. Even some of the Abbey Ghouls lazed about, their tails slowly swaying in their stupor. The Band Ghouls had long since disappeared with their chosen Siblings. 

Papa IV—looking a little more lax, a little less bright—dislodged his harem.

“It has been eventful, no? It is time for Papa to rest—no, no: not _that_ kind. Enjoy the rest of the festivities.”

The Siblings pouted, but a well-placed kiss here, a cheek-stroke there, went a long way to easing the disappointment as they watched their new Head saunter off to his chambers. 

His _new_ chambers. The one guarded by two Abbey Ghouls, as befitting his new status.

It was a suite in the Emeritus wing, and either a trusted Sibling or Ghoul had carried over his possessions and his babies. Papa IV disrobed down to his tight suit, and bustled about, searching through drawers and boxes until he found the treats.

“Ah yes, sweet ones. Here you go.” The rats with their twitching noses and quivering whiskers rushed over to him as he opened their cage and let them take the treats off his fingers. “Daddy is celebrating today. You shall partake too, yes?”

Copia hung up his vestments, running his gloved hand along the fine embroidery, and he waited.

It wasn’t long before he heard muffled talking outside his door, and then a sharp rap. Copia put on one of the under robes, and answered the door. Sister Doreen stood there, hands clasped in front of her and looking pensive. Papa IV eyed her, then addressed the Ghouls.

“Yes?”

One of them held up the card—an _invitation_ —for Papa’s inspection.

“Ah, thank you, Ghoul.”

Papa IV took the invitation and pretended to peruse it—but he already knew what it said. Knew it entitled the barer access to him to play.

“All is in order. She may enter.”

Papa IV didn’t even glance at the sister again until the door clicked shut behind him and he was seated in a chintz armchair. He caught and held her gaze—defiant still despite the contrition in her body language.

“So,” he said, “what has you seeking an audience with Papa?”

A glare crossed her face before she schooled it.

“You know why.”

“Do I? I must admit ignorance.”

“ _You_ ‘invited’ me here. Your Dark Excellency.”

“Sì. But you have come here why?”

Papa IV stood then, and Doreen flinched before holding her ground. He touched her head.

“Have you come to beg?” He slipped his hand down to grip her jaw. “Or have you come for … something else.”

Now she did glare at him.

“What if I’ve come for nothing, huh?”

Papa IV released her and stepped back.

“Then you have only wasted our time and you may go.” He gestured at the door.

“I may go,” she repeated.

“Sì.”

“And then what?”

“And then nothing. Life passes.” He paused. “But a warning: you continue to mock me at your peril.”

Doreen blanched.

“Ah. Not from me, child. I am unmerciful,” Papa IV spread his arms wide, “but some of your fellow Siblings. They are … fervent in their worship, yes? Best you be keeping your rat noises to yourself, mm?”

Doreen considered him.

“And if I don’t go?”

Papa IV crowded into her space, growling lowly. “If you stay I’m going to bend you over everything in here and you’re going to let me.”

He looked down at her again, his skull accents still stark against the white paint, his colorless eye practically glowing.

“Choose.”

Doreen crumbled to her legs and clutched at his robes.

“Please, P-Papa.”

Papa IV ran his hand through her hair.

“You have made an excellent choice, my child.”

He wrenched her head back.

“Now, up on your knees. You have a lot to atone for.”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes _what_?”

“Yes, Papa.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unofficial "part 2" can be read as part of Kinktober [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789473/chapters/65856199).


End file.
